


Broken

by Vanimelda4



Series: Teenlock short stories [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Teenlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 11:59:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13810728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanimelda4/pseuds/Vanimelda4
Summary: John seems to be mad at Sherlock.Sherlock plans to find out why.Both boys discover something about the other they previously didn't know.Part of my Teenlock AU series. All stories can be read separately, but make more sense as a whole.What you need to know if you haven't read the rest: Sherlock and John are in a secret relationship. Johns mother doesn't know and would not approve if she did. Johns mother is very protective of her children.





	Broken

For some reason John was mad at him and Sherlock had no idea why.  
However much he racked his brain he couldn't think of anything he had said or done that would make John act the way he did today.  
Sherlock didn't like not knowing. Least of all when it came to John. It was making him nervous. Sherlock also did not like being nervous. 

It had all started at school that afternoon. After classes had ended Sherlock had gone to find John so they could head over to his house together for their weekly study session. Granted, their sessions had gotten significantly less fun now that they were being supervised by Johns mother, but still, Sherlock felt that any day where he got to be close to John was a good day. So if the only way they could manage this was under the watchful eye of Johns overbearing mother then so be it. He had been pretty sure John felt the same.

But as soon as Sherlock had walked up to John where he stood by his locker, his back still turned towards him as he put away his books, he had known something was wrong. There had been a tension in his back and shoulders he had never seen there before. And when Sherlock greeted him and John turned around the general “wrongness” of the situation became even more apparent.  
John was always happy. No matter what. “An eternal optimist”, Sherlock had called him on several occasions. And John had laughed at that. That's what John did. Whatever happened he would smile his brilliant smile and Sherlock would bask in the radiance of it as if it was the light of the sun itself. But today it seemed as if a raincloud had drifted in front of his usual sunny disposition and the entire school seemed to be just a bit darker for it.  
His expression was tense as he chewed his bottom lip absentmindedly and a frown spread across his forehead. His eyes were fixed on nothing in particular and he seemed to be miles away and deeply absorbed in his own thoughts.  
It was all wrong and none of it made sense. 

'John?' Sherlock tried. 

John did not reply. He just turned his head towards Sherlock. Acknowledging that he had indeed heard him. Still not smiling. Still miles away. And still all wrong. 

'Is everything alright, John?' he tried again.

'Huh? Yeah...oh yeah.....fine.....just......fine.' was the definitely not fine reply, but before Sherlock had a chance to ask any further questions John continued: 

'We're going to have to cancel the study session this afternoon Sherlock. I have....a thing'

A thing? John didn't have 'things'. Sherlock was Johns 'thing'. At least that's what he'd assumed up till now anyway.

'Is everything alright?' He hazarded again. 

John seemed annoyed now.  
'I'm fine Sherlock. Really. I just..... can't today, alright?' 

'Because of the thing?'

'The thing.'

'And the thing is........?'

John seemed to be more angry than annoyed now. His voice rising as he spoke again.  
'God, Sherlock, I don't want to talk about it alright! It's not always about you.' 

With that John had stormed off. Leaving a very confused Sherlock behind.  
Okay, John was mad. At him. And Sherlock didn't know why. And John had a 'thing'. Whatever that was. And he wouldn't tell him what the 'thing' was either.  
Sherlock didn't like not knowing.  
So that's why, at the moment he was hiding outside of Johns house to find out what exactly was going on. 

**********************************************************************************

Sherlock had been standing outside of Johns house for a while now, but so far not a whole lot had happened. John had gone inside, as he always did after school. His mother had greeted him, as she always did. And that had been it.  
Sherlock was just starting to contemplate whether he should try climbing inside through Johns bedroom window in order to get a closer look when the door opened again.

First John came back out, followed by his mother who, in turn, was followed by a girl bearing a striking resemblance to both John and his mother. Most likely Johns sister. Sherlock had never met her, but this had to be Harriet Watson. She had the same blond hair and blue eyes the Watson family was blessed with, the same slight upturned nose as John and, just like John, she was a bit on the short side. Sherlock couldn't help but smile.  
He was, however, a bit surprised to see Harriet here. She went to school on the other side of the country so she visited her mother and younger brother very rarely.  
Sherlock was pretty sure Harriet was not the 'thing' though, John would have told him in a heartbeat if that was the case, but if she was here the 'thing' had to be pretty special indeed. 

The Watson family was getting into their car now. Sherlock decided to follow. 

***************************************************************************************

Sherlock had followed the Watson family car to a pretty insignificant stretch of highway. Johns mother had parked the car by the side of the road and all three family members had gotten out. Sherlock had hidden a little further down behind a tree. At the moment John, his mother and his sister were gathered around something at the roadside. Sherlock was pretty sure that whatever they were gathered around was the 'thing', but because the family was standing in front of it he couldn't make out what it was. He wished he could see their expressions at least, but all three had their backs turned towards him. He could however still see the tension in Johns back and shoulders. Still all wrong. 

After about 15 minutes Johns mother and sister got back in the car. John stayed behind. His mother said something to him Sherlock couldn't quite hear from his position behind the tree and John waved his phone at her absentmindedly.  
This probably meant Johns mother and sister were leaving for a bit and John would call them if he needed anything. Perfect.  
As soon as the car was out of sight Sherlock made his move.

***************************************************************************************

The closer Sherlock got to John the more uncomfortable he felt. The wrongness seemed to cling to John still. His head hung low, his arms limp and useless at his sides as his shoulders gently shook. Was John crying? 

'John?' Sherlock ventured as he got close enough for John to hear him. His voice soft. 

Even though the word had been no louder than a whisper John spun around as if he had been struck by lightning. Thunder in his eyes. 

'Sherlock?!' He said. His tone of voice was laced with anger, but his eyes were slightly red and there were traces of shed and unshed tears all over his face.  
'I told you not to come!' John was shouting at him now. His fists clenched tightly where they hung at his sides. 

'I thought....' Sherlock started. And then he stopped. Suddenly he saw what Johns family had been gathered around. A small wooden cross stood amidst the tall grass at the side of the road. Easy to miss if you weren't looking for it. On the wood there were letters and numbers. Today's date, only three years ago. And a name: 

'H. Watson.' 

Hamish Watson.

Johns father. 

Sherlocks eyes shot from the cross back to John.  
'John', he said once again, 'I'm sorry.'

'I told you not to come, Sherlock. I specifically told you. I don't want you here.'

'I'm so sorry'. Sherlock wasn't sure what he was apologizing for, but at the moment they seemed to be the only words his lips were able to form. 'I'm so sorry', he said once again. 

Tears were flowing freely across Johns face now, but the anger was still there. 

'Why don't you ever listen, Sherlock!' Johns clenched fists were raised now.  
'I hate you!', he shouted as he started pounding on Sherlocks chest. 'I hate you!'

John looked so sad and broken. About to fall to pieces entirely. Shaking violently as he beat away at Sherlocks chest, choking on his tears. The blows uncoordinated and lacking any real power. Just a silent rebellion against all the wrongness that was in the world today.  
And in an attempt to keep John from completely shattering to pieces at his feet Sherlock stretched out his arms and pulled John close. His tear streaked face pressed against his shirt as he held on tight and wrapped his arms around him.

The close proximity now made it impossible for John to effectively beat away at Sherlocks chest so instead he grabbed a hold of Sherlocks shirt with both hands, buried his face in his neck and cried and cried and cried while Sherlock gently stroked his back.  
'Sssssh', he soothed, his voice calm and gentle, 'it's alright, John.'

'It's.....not', Johns words soft now and hard to make out in between the uncontrollable sobbing. 'It's not.....I hate this, Sherlock.....It's not fair.' 

'I know John, sssssh. I know. But it is what it is'

Sherlock just held on to John. Soothing him as best he could. Whispering calming words in his ears and gently stroking his face and back until the tension finally left his body and he ran out of tears. 

*************************************************************************************

'He was drunk behind the wheel when he lost control and crashed into the guard rail. He died instantly', John said. His voice steady. His tear streaked face and puffy eyes the only evidence left of his emotional breakdown mere minutes ago. 

Sherlock was standing next to John now as they both looked down at the cross. His arm around Johns waist. Holding him close as John leaned his head against his shoulder.  
Sherlock didn't reply. If John wanted to talk he'd let him talk. If he didn't, that was fine too. He had intervened in Johns personal life enough today.

'He was a good guy....when he was sober at least.....I miss him so much' a half-sigh, half broken off sob followed and Sherlock pulled John just a little bit closer.  
'He would have liked you.'

'I wish I could have met him.'

'Me too.' 

They stood side by side in silence again for a couple of minutes more until John spoke again:  
'My sister and I were supposed to be in the car too, but there was a last minute change of plans. I don't think my mother has ever forgiven him for how much worse it could have been. I think that's why she is the way she is. So overprotective.'

John wiped at his eyes and sighed.  
'Speaking of my mother, I'm supposed to call her when I'm ready to go home..... I think I'm about ready'

'I could take you back. You can call her and say you got a cab.'

'How on earth did you even get here?'

Sherlock pointed down the road to where his mode of transportation was parked. 

'You have a motorcycle?! Why am I not surprised' there was a hint of amused exasperation to Johns voice. 

'Well...... it's not mine. I...... borrowed it.' 

'Sherlock, you don't even have a license.'

'Well...I have “a” license.'

Smiling Sherlock produced a small plastic card from inside his pocket and handed it over to John.  
John turned the drivers license over in his hand a couple of times, shook his head and smiled.  
'Mycroft Holmes? Really? Trust you to pick a false name just as posh as your own.' 

Sherlock said nothing as John brought the card closer to his face. 

'That photo doesn't even look like you.'

'Ah', Sherlock said, 'fun fact: if you distract a police officer by asking questions while they inspect your license they usually fail to notice the picture.'

'A “Fun” fact?'

'Okay, a fact.' Sherlock rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth were curling up in a smile. 

'You better have a spare helmet.'

'Of course.'

'And you can't park in front of the house. If my mother sees.....that', John gestured in the general direction of the motorcycle, 'she'll have a heart attack.'

'Wouldn't dream of it.'

Sherlock felt John chuckle against his shoulder as they stood in silence for a couple of moments more.  
This time it was Sherlock who broke the silence:  
'I'm sorry I followed you here without your consent, John..... but I am glad I did.'

'Me too.'

Another moment of silence before Sherlock continued:  
'It's alright to be sad, John. Just know that you don't always have to be sad alone.'

Here John lifted his head from Sherlocks shoulder. A soft smile on his face as he looked at him.  
'You know, sometimes you say the sweetest things.'

Sherlock returned his smile.  
'Do I? Well...don't get used to it. I have a tough biker image to uphold.'

John barked out a laugh. It was honest and light and it warmed Sherlocks heart and as John put his head back on his shoulder he felt like he could breathe again for the first time that day.

**Author's Note:**

> There is a reason why Sherlock doesn't know about Johns father and John doesn't know who Mycroft is (yet).  
> In my AU Johns father died 3 years ago. John switched schools shortly after that. Not wanting to be 'that guy who's dad died' he doesn't tell anyone about it. He just bottles up his emotions. 
> 
> Sherlock was transferred to Johns school a year ago. For reasons I'm planning to write about in a short story to come. Sherlock hasn't told John about his brother, because....well...he's Sherlock isn't he.


End file.
